


Prince and the Pee

by kinkandquiet



Series: Poe and Dorian [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Desperation, Kink, M/M, Omorashi, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 13:04:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6520909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinkandquiet/pseuds/kinkandquiet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Princes didn't have to pee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prince and the Pee

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written February, 2011.

Princes didn't have to pee.

Princes wore expensive robes, went to banquets, danced and didn't step on a lady's feet. They sat on the throne listening to elaborate speeches and daydreaming of clouds shaped like unicorns--or at least Prince Poe did that. He wasn't sure if the unicorn thing was the usual. Perhaps not. Poe was not usual.

Right now Prince Poe was trying very hard not to pee his dress robes. At a banquet. While dancing and not stepping on a lady's feet. While daydreaming of clouds shaped like toilets. Oh, toilet. So unfair. Prince Poe stepped on the lady's foot. 

"Oof!" said the lady, tripping back and bumping into someone else dancing. It was a chain effect. Poe knew somewhere off the dance floor the king, his father, was frowning at his less than superb dancing skills.

He crossed one leg over the other as he bowed to the lady, hoping that it looked like a polite motion instead of a desperate attempt to hold his bladder. 

"I must go," he said when he really meant, I must go. 

The lady curtsied as he disappeared into the dancing crowd. It was a kingdom easily accessed by carriage but Poe had never met the royalty here before tonight. He didn't like banquets but his father had insisted upon this one. 

Poe wished he hadn't. The night had been long. The ride in the carriage over bumpy dirt roads had been uncomfortable. Introductions had been stiff and boring, and Poe had distracted himself with the champagne. And then dinner with what felt like a thousand toasts at the table, one gulp of champagne after another after another--and now the dancing, when Poe's bladder was beyond full.

He moved through the crowd with little grace, his metal heeled dress shoes clicking against the sparkling tiles. He didn't know where he was going--the location of the castle's toilets were unknown to him and it wasn't princely to ask--but he knew he could not stand being in the spinning circle of dancing people any longer. 

The dreams of cloud toilets in his head had been joined by gushing waterfalls. Poe quickened his pace, rubbing his naked thighs together under the dress robes. He nearly walked right into the princess of the foreign castle. 

"Prince Poe!" Isabelle said, bright and cheery. Clearly she was not dying to empty her bladder like Poe was. "I've been looking for you. It's proper to have a dance together, you know."

Poe hated 'proper' so much. He twisted his legs together, jiggling. The princess looked at him oddly and so he forced himself to straighten up, then rose to the tips of his toes and tried to see over the heads of the crowd for any possible promise of relief. He couldn't see anything. Prince Poe was short.

"Our dance?" Isabelle repeated.

"Yes," Poe said, but darted out of her reach when she moved to take his hand. "I-in a moment."

The prince hoped desperately it would only be a short moment until he could find a toilet, but he knew it was only a vain wish. Poe had been trapped at many banquets with his bladder full, forced to wait, but it had never been as full as it was now and the need had never been so urgent. The pressure in his bladder was massive. He couldn't spare the delay of a dance, and with his slender thighs squeezed together beneath his robes he escaped past the princess and further into the crowd. 

The champagne stretching his bladder was rushing with the music and the swish of long dresses and fancy robes. The prince let out an undignified whine that was swallowed in the noise of the crowd as he moved through it with the vain hope he was headed outside the circle rather than further into it. A wave of new desperation washed over him and he was just about to give his crotch a secretive squeeze through his robes when he made it outside the crowd.

His hand, half way to its destination, snapped immediately behind his back and he blushed, ducking his head so his strawberry blonde hair hid his eyes.

Free of the crowd, his bladder tingled in anticipation of release. The prince looked around the room frantically. So many doors led to so many places, and none of them offered any obvious signs of relief. There was the common restroom, a short line of people that Poe would have been relieved to join, but it was unheard of for royalty to use a common restroom just as it was unheard of for royalty to wear the common man's clothing or drive the common man's carriage. 

There should be a toilet he was allowed to use somewhere but if its location had been revealed earlier in the night Poe hadn't been listening. Now he needed desperately to know where it was and it was undignified to ask. Princes didn't need to pee, they just decided to sometimes when it was convenient. 

The current situation was deeply inconvenient. 

"Ohh, where is it?" Poe said in a whisper, his gaze darting everywhere as he tapped his foot. Relief was not in sight.

The prince sent one last pathetically longing look towards the common restroom before turning away. He walked quickly to one corner of the dance hall and when he found no relief there he had to turn around and head the other way. 

His well practiced, dignified walk quickly became unbalanced, his naked legs pressed close together under the robes. This stride turned suddenly to an uneven bounce that made his heels click, much to his embarrassment when people sitting at tables turned to look. He couldn't walk straight, such was his need.

Suddenly Poe stopped in his search, bouncing frantically in place. He was so desperate. The need had grown slowly over the night, sneaking up on the prince and only concerning him, abruptly and urgently, when the bell had rung for dancing to begin. Now he was frantic and he couldn't imagine how he hadn't succumbed to the need earlier. Except that there was nowhere to go.

He couldn't ask where the royal's restroom was and he certainly couldn't go use the common one. The king was always watching, and he would give Poe that look--that disappointed look, like Poe was too much of a weakling to be his heir. But Poe couldn't wait to unload his bladder until they returned to their own castle like he usually would have, he absolutely couldn't.

In his desperation the prince's eyes fell on the door leading outside the ballroom into the garden.

Poe yearned to go outside and pee against a tree. No one would know. The door was only yards away. He could run there. He had to run there. 

Except he couldn't. He couldn't go outside without protection.

In all circumstances the prince was followed by a security team, and tonight that team was even bigger than usual. Poe looked longingly to the door but knew he couldn't go outside by himself. He shifted fretfully, rubbing his knees together and praying no one would notice his squirming.

Again he was forced to turn away from the picture of his relief, and this time he searched the tables spotting the room with a desperate eye. It took far too long, Poe's robes flowing with his jerking movements as he stood on his toes searching the heads for a particular one, and then having to bend forward, gasping at a sudden spasm from his bladder.

Blessedly, finally, he found Dorian in the crowd. Dorian was off duty tonight and for once not dressed in his palace uniform, but there was still a weapon at his side and he straightened suddenly when he saw Poe. 

Poe practically shoved his way through the crowd to get to his bodyguard, and when he made it there he had to stop and cross his legs at the thigh under his robes. Dorian's friends sitting at the table were drinking wine, a stream of it flowing from the bottle into a glass. Poe's bladder shuddered, and he had the embarrassing, involuntary fantasy of snatching an empty wine glass and shoving it under his robes, to--

He tried not to blush, as that was not princely either, as he leaned forward at the waist to whisper in the bodyguard's ear. "Take me outside, Dorian."

Dorian pulled back, his expression confused. He wasn't on duty tonight and Poe should have gone to the guard on duty if he wanted something. But Poe wanted Dorian. Dorian was always the one Poe went to when he was distressed. Even if the source of his current distress was not his safety but the extreme pressure in his bladder. 

Dorian kept his voice a whisper when he spoke, following the prince's example. "Your Highness, if you'd like to leave the premises I can assemble your security team immediately?"

The security guards at the table were staring while trying to look as if they weren't. They were low rank by their attire and they'd likely never seen the prince ask for anything. Poe bit his lip, shimmying his hips despite his efforts not to show that he needed to pee.

"Please, Dorian," Poe begged. It was begging, and Dorian was suddenly very alert. "Please take me outside."

"My prince," Dorian regarded him, bowing his head. "There is no need for 'please'. I will take you immediately."

"Thank you," Poe sighed in relief, though he knew Dorian liked 'thank you' even less than 'please'. It was the bodyguard's firm belief that anything he did for Poe was his sworn duty and Poe's to demand without preamble or thanks. 

All eyes at the table were on them when the favored bodyguard rose to assist the prince in what everyone must have assumed was a very urgent, very royal matter. They were right about the urgent, at least. 

When Dorian stepped away from the table and Poe tried to follow him, his legs jiggled like jelly and the water in his bladder trembled and shook. Poe himself shuddered. 

"Escort me," he managed, his voice wavering as he turned beseeching eyes on Dorian. 

Dorian took the order immediately and offered his arm to the prince. Poe grabbed on to it firmly. It did little to reduce the desperate need to pee and he still felt dangerously close to soaking his dress robes, but he did feel safer as he held onto Dorian's muscular arm. The man led him in a beeline for the door to the garden, relief in sight, and then,

"Prince Poe!" Isabelle's voice rang out.

Poe stopped, not because he wanted to but because suddenly he had to, frozen in a hard wave of frantic need, and Isabelle reached them, her dress flowing.

"You disappeared," she accused him. "We are supposed to dance, are we not?"

"I'm sorry..." Poe managed. He didn't think he was supposed to apologize so easily but he did anyway, hoping the princess would let him go. She didn't.

"I will forgive you for a dance," she said, and promptly offered her hand for him to take. 

Poe darted a pleading gaze towards Dorian but he was a fraction of a second too late and Dorian was casing the expanse of the ballroom. Dorian missed the prince's look, the princess was waiting with her hand out, and Poe saw no other option but to take it and join her in a slow dance.

His bladder protested the delay, but he was a prince and it was his duty, just as it was hers to dance with him. So he tightened the muscles in his stomach, trying not to make it obvious how badly he needed to pee. Trying not to pee. Poe was failing quickly and terribly, and the longer he danced the worse the urgency became until he was in a cold sweat.

The constant swaying made things worse rather than better, sloshing the champagne in his bladder back and forth with each step. He couldn't even cross his legs to help contain the liquid. The hard bulge in his abdomen was pressing down, and at the next spin of the dance Poe let out an inaudible gasp. 

To Poe's horror and complete helplessness, a jet of pee escaped him. It streamed fast and desperate between his legs and splattered on the sparkling tile below. He wore nothing beneath the dress robes except his shoes, and there was nothing to stop the spurt when he leaked. Poe trembled with the horror of the splash and the horror that he might not be able to hold back long enough to make it outside. 

Dorian came to his rescue.

"Princess Isabelle," Dorian said, stepping in when he noticed the prince seemed distressed. "I'm afraid His Highness has other matters to attend to. There will be no more dancing tonight."

Poe wanted to kiss him. But despite Dorian's words, Poe couldn't stop dancing. He wiggled and fidgeted frantically, twisting his bare legs together and bending forward at the waist as if to bow. Isabelle bowed back.

Dorian led him through the spinning crowd, Poe clinging to his muscular with his sharp little nails. He was just barely able to hold back the all out dance of squirming and utter urgency, knowing eyes were on him in the large dance hall. Knowing his father's eyes would be on him.

To add insult to injury, they passed the common restroom as they headed for the garden and Poe could hear a toilet flush. Then, finally, they reached the blessed safety of the garden and as soon as they cleared the door the prince was squirming for real, unable to contain his desperation.

Except he had to contain it, because Dorian was not the only person in the garden with him. In fact, the garden was nearly as populated as the ballroom had been. Poe was forced to rip his hand away from his crotch when he saw all the partygoers.

"Ohhh," he released in his despair. "Need somewhere to go, need somewhere to go!"

"My prince?" Dorian said, but Poe couldn't mind it. 

He jolted forward through the garden, his shoes clacking against the cobblestone, his bladder throbbing with every step.

Somehow he had thought the garden would be empty. He could pee like he'd been dying to all night and he'd only have to embarrass himself in front of Dorian who was sworn to secrecy about all things. But the garden was crowded and there was nowhere to go and nothing he could do.

The prince broke into a run, people dressed in expensive gowns around every corner and hedge. The rows of rosebushes and hedges and the partygoers scattered through them seemed endless. Finally Poe had to stop against a cobblestone wall, leaning heavily into it and panting as a desperate twinge from his bladder threatened to knock him to his knees. He clutched the crevices in the stone with his fingers, dropping his sweaty forehead against the cold wall.

Dorian cleared his throat, still close at the prince's side despite the erratic pace Poe had taken as soon as they were outside. "My prince, if I could speak freely?" Poe let out a despairing whine that Dorian hesitantly took as permission. "Where are you going?"

"I don't know!" Poe admitted, squirming. "I can't think. I'm desperate!"

"You'r—"

"I need to pee too badly to stand it!"

It was completely undignified for a prince but of all people Poe trusted Dorian, the bodyguard who had protected him as far back as he could remember. But Poe had never been in this situation before, at least not this badly. He was often desperate, but never to the point where he couldn't hold it.

Dorian was unsure of how to handle the situation, which was a rarity for the bodyguard. He opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again, looking at the prince squirming frantically. He'd had half an eye on the prince all night, despite being off duty, and he hadn't noticed his distress at all before.

But Poe was in distress now. He'd already leaked once on the floor, and in the garden with nowhere to go his bladder was thrashing and threatening to let go whether he could find someplace to do it or not. Poe clutched the wall, hitching his hips forward to press his crotch against the stone for some much needed pressure. It was a mistake, and the cold stone indented the distended curve of his bladder.

Dorian stepped closer to him when Poe let out an agonized moan. "I'll escort you to the restroom immediately. It's not far, my prince..."

Poe shook his head, wisps of blonde hair flying. "It's not allowed. They're common restrooms. It's not proper for royalty to make use of common objects." 

"There must be an exception for emergencies," Dorian said, frowning.

There was certainly not an exception for emergencies. Princes didn't have emergencies. Except Poe. 

"Father would be so angry," Poe whispered. "He says I need restraint in all things."

Dorian wished to say something, but it would have been blasphemous to speak out against the king.

"I see," was all he said, frowning deeply as he watched the prince fight not to grab himself through his robes. Something needed to be done immediately. Dorian spoke slowly, unsure how to phrase it in a proper way. The situation was hardly proper. "The plants look like they could use a watering..."

A man in the tailored uniform of the foreign castle's security walked by. Poe gasped, squeezing his eyes shut and stamping his foot. "Don't tease me! I can't do that!"

It was Dorian's sworn duty to ensure the prince's comfort and if there was a way to make the prince comfortable in the immediate situation of course it was what Dorian thought of. But it wasn't exactly appropriate to tell a prince to pee in the garden, either. 

"I apologize. Of course you're right," Dorian said, forgetting properness for a moment in the strangely intimate situation. "I've just never seen you need the toilet, and I've known you so long. I sometimes wondered if princes just didn't have to go."

Poe shook his head. "I'm always desperate at banquets. They're horrible, with all the champagne and the dancing and the waiting and waiting. I always have to hold it. But I can't hold it this time." He whined suddenly at the admission, shocking Dorian when he bent forward and actually shoved his hands into his robed crotch. "I can't hold it!"

Dorian had never seen the prince in such a state of distress over his bladder. In fact he had not seen the prince in so much distress at all. He'd accompanied Poe to every banquet he'd been to since he was a child and Dorian had never even thought of how desperate the prince might be after drinking champagne all night, and never in all that time asking for a toilet. It boggled Dorian's mind, leaving him momentarily speechless.

Poe pushed off the wall suddenly, one hand still shoved in the robes below his abdomen as he sprang quickly forward. He ran further from the castle in the vain hope of getting far enough away from the wandering partygoers that he could relieve himself without anyone seeing it. Dorian strutted swiftly after him, his own stride steady in comparison to Poe's mad dash.

"Mmm," the prince moaned, shoes clicking against cobblestone and his robes flowing in the wind. The cold ice of the wind sent a sharp stab through his stomach. His bladder constricted cruelly and Poe gasped, having to stop to bob up and down at the waist. There were less people now, almost enough that no one could see. Relief was just out of his grasp, but Poe felt too close to soaking his robes to move either hand from his crotch.

He bent his knees, doubled over, huddling around the distended bulge of his bladder. 

There was a fat, green little bush just at Poe's feet off the cobblestone and hardly anyone in his sights who would notice. That bush was transforming into a blessed toilet in his mind, sparkling tantalizingly. But he couldn't—he just couldn't do it, he realized. Not with the chance of someone seeing, even from far away. For the expensive dress robes had no opening in them, and Poe would have had to pull the cloth all the way up his legs to aim at the plant.

A pulse of desperation shivered down the prince's spine, threatening to squeeze every drop out of his bladder. He tensed his muscles hard, dancing and grinding and squeezing, but it did nothing to quell the need.

"I can't," Poe moaned. "I can't, I can't! Ohhh, but I need to!" He bit his lip hard, forcing a leak back. "But I won't!"

Dorian was watching the whole thing play out with dawning concern, a foreboding feeling overtaking him. 

The prince's distress was obvious. Dorian dared to place a hand on his waist to support him, though it wasn't exactly protocol. "Your Highness, what can I do to assist you?"

Poe's face was squished desperately as he tried to think of something, anything. His mind was full of the desperate need to relieve his bladder of its burden and he couldn't think of single way the night could end without completely soaking his robes or otherwise embarrassing himself. 

But Dorian's arm was there and Poe clutched onto it again, tearing his hand away from his crotch to curl his fingers into Dorian's muscles. 

"Keep going. Oh, we have to keep going, quickly!" he said, bashing a heeled boot against the cobblestone path.

The prince hobbled forward on Dorian's arm, his thighs wiggling together under the dress robes as he walked. His skin was slightly damp as his legs rubbed together, and the feel of it made Poe's bladder drop in his stomach. He moaned and stopped short.

Dorian tugged, gently encouraging, and Poe began walking again. He only had to get so far into the garden that no one would be able to see them, and then he could hike his robes up and pee. But the further they walked Poe began to hear voices again, and even worse--the sound of water from a fountain.

The desperation peaked and the liquid inside him pressed suddenly and cruelly against his clenched muscles. The desperate prince and the bodyguard rounded a corner to a courtyard. In the center of it there was a large fountain splashing and hissing water into the air, and crowded around it a number of partygoers. 

"Ohhhh!" Poe gasped at the sound and sight of the fountain. "I-I can't... It's agonizing! Dorian, please, please--"

Dorian winced. "My prince..."

Poe was looking at him with eyes that were far too needy for a prince. "I have to peeeee!" he cried as if Dorian had not been fully aware. 

The cry was too frantic to be a whisper and one of the gentlemen at the fountain turned towards them with badly suppressed curiously of the royalty. Dorian moved on instinct to lead the prince away, down another rosy path and hopefully to somewhere he could relieve himself.

But Poe was standing frozen and brittle, his legs clenched tightly together against the sight of the fountain. His bladder was too full of champagne to restrain any longer, and the sound of running water was more than it could take. Poe gasped and bent forward as a gush of urine jetted into his robes, wetting his legs and tickling his skin.

The prince let out a despairing cry and collapsed in the grass with his legs crossed as Dorian stood over him.

Dorian stared as Poe breathed in gasps, his skin pale but his cheeks pink. His legs were twisted together in a desperate attempt to stop the obviously impending flood, his fingers clasping his bare ankle where it stuck out from under the robe.

Poe's bladder was trembling with racing urgency in his abdomen and he knew without a doubt that he was about to soak himself and his robes, and then Dorian's hand was on his knee, disturbing Poe's tight huddle. Another quick, thick torrent of piss gushed out, wetting his robe as Dorian tried to pull his legs from their crossed position. Poe protested with a whine. "Mmph!"

"Your highness, you should sit properly," he heard Dorian say, but Poe couldn't even imagine at the moment taking the proper position for royalty to sit on the ground, knees pulled up under him.

"I-I can't," Poe protested, squeezing his crossed legs tightly. "I can't move! Ohh! What can I do?"

Sitting with his legs crossed was all that was stopping him from peeing himself and through Poe had been told hundreds of times to 'sit properly,' sometimes even when he was desperate to pee, he just couldn't do it this time. And without being able to move, even to change his position, there was no way he was going to get away from the crowd of people or the fountain to relieve himself now. 

"Your Hi—" Dorian paused, then, "Poe."

Poe blinked his wet eyes open even in his desperation, shocked. He had been trying to get Dorian to call him that for years.

"Poe," Dorian repeated, seeing he had the prince's attention. "You should sit properly. It would be better."

There was something secretive in his tone but Poe didn't understand it. He couldn't think straight, but he did as Dorian told him to with painful effort, another spurt of urine escaping as he unfolded his legs slowly and pulled them up under him with his calves against the cold grass. 

This position was no more comfortable than the last. He squeezed bent legs together but the pressure wasn't nearly enough to hold back the torrential flood and Poe couldn't stop the trickle that began, a constant leak he couldn't stem without the use of his hands but couldn't allow to gush out freely, either.

He whimpered pitifully and leaned forward, hands grappling in the grass in front of him. Even without holding himself he must look strange to anyone who watched. Dorian must have thought it too because he pressed his hand over Poe's stomach to force him upright again.

The weight of his hand crushed the fullness of Poe's bladder and he let out a cold gasp as the trickling spurted into a torrent, only barely avoiding completely soaking himself. The stream trickled over his thighs and into the grass below.

Poe released a moan, begging Dorian with his eyes. "I-I'm leaking! I can't stop it!"

"I know that," Dorian said, voice deep and comforting. "But no one else does."

Sitting in the grass with his bodyguard beside him and his robes billowed out, it only looked as if the prince was taking a rest as he spurted desperately held pee over his legs and the grass below. 

Poe let out another moan at the next wave of desperation, not knowing what to do. He didn't want to give his body permission to let go here, but he was spurting and letting go in leaks and streams despite his clawing efforts not to. Rivulets trickled down his legs.

The decision was made for him when Dorian spoke again.

"My prince, please let me assist you."

Dorian assisted him by grasping Poe's bent knee and tugging it with his considerable strength so Poe's legs were wide apart from each other. Poe wrenched and tried to pull his leg back to press them together, but Dorian wouldn't allow it, and helplessly Poe lost control again, this time the pee splashing down and wetting the grass between Poe's spread knees. 

The grass didn't mind. The grass didn't care that he was a prince.

With his robes billowed out and kneeling with his legs parted Poe could pee directly into the grass and no one would be the wiser. The realization filled him with anticipation, weighing heavy on his over filled bladder. Another hot stream escaped without his permission, wetting the grass again, and Poe looked to Dorian, begging with his eyes. He needed the permission he hadn't had all night. Can I? Can I? Please, am I allowed?

Dorian understood it and he placed his hand where Poe's bladder was engorged beneath he dress robes. "It's all right, Your Highness."

Even if Dorian's words hadn't comforted him like they had, the pressure of his hand over Poe's abdomen exploded the prince's bladder suddenly and spectacularly, leaving Poe crying out as he let go. The sound of his relief joined that of the fountain, the dirt turning to mud beneath his knees.

The stream gushed out at full force beneath the cover of his robes, and Dorian could see nothing as he knelt beside the prince and kept an eye on him. As long moments passed the prince's desperate state relaxed slowly and then turned to relief, his shoulders losing their tension and the desperate expression melting from his face. He was limp and hazy by the time his bladder returned to a normal size.

Poe sighed a great sigh. The liquid he had been holding so long, champagne he'd drank through the excruciatingly long day, was finally left in a puddle in the grass.

The prince was weak with relief. He turned to Dorian with wide eyes, looking up at the bodyguard like a savior. "Thank you."

Dorian stood up easily, offering his hand so Poe could stand as well, and the prince rose out of the puddle of piss. Dorian made sure Poe was steady on his feet and then began to lead the relieved prince back through the garden at a much more relaxed pace than before. "There is no need to thank me, Your Highness. Are you comfortable?"

"So comfortable," Poe moaned. He had never been so comfortable in his life. He was floating on a cloud. The cloud was shaped like a unicorn. He was that comfortable.

"Good," Dorian said smoothly. It was, after all, his duty to insure the prince's safety and comfort. "Should you find you need my assistance again in the future, don't hesitate to ask."


End file.
